All The Truth That I've Said
by TheGrayson
Summary: Blaine's not sure what to do when Kurt gets rejected from NYADA, so he's just there as they wait it out, because it's obvious there will be a happy ending. At least there will be if Blaine has anything to do with it. Post-Goodbye, Klaine fluff.


**Hey, guys. I know I haven't updated in weeks, but I can't tell you why because it's a really personal matter and it nearly ruined my life and I'm just glad it's over. And then I watched "Goodbye" and my heart broke a little more. So here. Take this.**

**After much pleading from my friends, I also made a tumblr. I'm theonlygrayson on there, so follow me and I'll follow you!**

* * *

Blaine knew he should feel upset that Kurt was opening his acceptance letter without him, but this was Kurt's moment and Kurt's moment alone. Yes, he was opening the letter with Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson probably less than three feet away, but it was _Kurt's _moment.

So no, he really wasn't upset at all, especially as he sat on the floor in front of Kurt's locker, waiting for Kurt to walk out and deliver the good news

Blaine was mostly just excited that Kurt was going to be a NYADA student next fall. Yes, he'd be in a completely different state (and Blaine tried not to dwell on this fact too much, even though he had cried himself to sleep many times just thinking about Kurt's departure) and Blaine would only get to see him on long weekend and major holidays, but this was Kurt's first step in becoming the greatest star on Broadway, just like Blaine knew he would be.

So when Kurt walked out of the choir room, his face a mess of disappointment and shock, Blaine really didn't know what to do. Because there was _no way_ that Kurt didn't get in.

He had seen Kurt's audition. He had seen Kurt's demeanor suddenly change from small and nervous to professional and amazing. He had seen Kurt's surprising song change and costume swap (and yes, he had definitely seen Kurt's gold pants) and he had been in the audience when Carmen Tibideux's mouth dropped open.

Kurt had _aced_ his audition, so how could he not have gotten in?

"I didn't get in." Kurt whispered as he drew near enough to Blaine. The ebony boy quickly stood up and clasped Kurt's hands, pulling them away from where he had been twisting a letter—the letter—in his grasp. "I—I wasn't good enough."

"But—but how?" Blaine said, then immediately cursed himself for not being a bit more sensitive. He should be comforting Kurt, right? "I mean, your audition was amazing! How could they not pick—"

"Rachel got in," Kurt mumbled, and Blaine felt his heart twist in his chest. Rachel, who had blown her audition and harassed Carmen endlessly, had gotten in? Over Kurt?

"I wasn't good enough," Kurt continued, his face oddly passive for somebody who'd just had all his dreams fall apart.

"Don't you dare say that," Blaine growled, tugging Kurt into a hug. It nearly stung when Kurt didn't move to hug him back. He just stood there in Blaine's grip, staring past his boyfriend's shoulder and at the floor. Blaine didn't blame him. "Don't you dare say you're not good enough. You're more than just 'good enough.'"

"Then why didn't I get in?" Kurt questioned, his voice and face still blank. Blaine was a bit surprised; Kurt was a rather easy crier, and Blaine would've expected him to be bawling over something like this.

"I don't know," Blaine said earnestly, wishing he had something better to tell Kurt, wishing he could say that this entire letter was a mistake and that yes, he would be going to NYADA this fall and all his dreams would come true. Kurt slowly softened in his arms, bringing his hands up to grip at Blaine's shoulders almost painfully.

Blaine tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. "I don't know."

* * *

It was only later, after he had dropped Kurt at home and gotten back to his own house well after midnight, that Blaine managed to see the irony in everything.

Kurt, who hadn't gotten to be Tony (and as if Blaine needed more reason to feel guilty about that) and had lost in the school elections and who had stressed for hours about his application and audition, hadn't gotten in.

Kurt, who had been bullied and taunted his entire life and had to transfer to get away from death threats.

Kurt, who had lost his mother and had been terrified of telling his father the truth about his sexuality for years.

Kurt, whom Blaine had fought with countless times this year over stupid things like getting drunk and Sebastian and Chandler and New York.

Blaine had never really believed in God, but now he was sure that there wasn't one, because nobody would voluntarily be this cruel to a beautiful, wonderful, _perfect_ boy like Kurt.

Burt's reaction was as to be expected: he had ranted and raved for several hours about how everybody at NYADA was clearly an idiot and a prissy school like that didn't even deserve Kurt anyway, and Kurt was better than this and he didn't deserve to be turned down when he was clearly the best thing that would ever happen to New York, and—

Eventually, Kurt had gone to his father and shushed him, saying that it didn't really matter anyway, and he would figure something out by next fall.

And then Kurt had gone to his room and Blaine had followed him and they had just sat on his bed for hours, Kurt half in Blaine's lap as they rested against his headboard and listened to Lady Gaga blasting so loud Blaine was sure the neighbors would hear.

Finn had come home then—he had gone to Rachel's to break the happy news to her fathers—and the same thing had happened, only much quieter because Finn still had tear tracks on his face and Carol was crying too hard to really speak much.

Yes, it really was ironic, Blaine decided, that the two boys in Lima who had possibly deserved to have their dreams come true more than anybody else were the only two boys rejected.

Blaine had to stifle his yelp of surprise when he saw the tear tracks on his own cheeks, because he couldn't even remember where they had come from.

* * *

Rachel's send-off at the train station had been teary and emotion, mostly because Rachel and Finn and all the other girls were sobbing and Kurt was just standing quietly in the shadows, casting a longing look at the train.

Blaine almost cried too, but the tears weren't for Rachel.

He watched as Kurt stepped forward and hugged Rachel tightly, and was startled to see a smile on his face that was only the tiniest bit bitter—and maybe Blaine could only see it because he knew Kurt so well, but he could tell how much this was hurting him, to say goodbye to the girl who got to have her fantasies come true while he had to stay behind and act like she was the victim in this situation.

Kurt's smile somehow lasted until they got home, but Blaine could see how fake it had become.

* * *

Blaine was there when Kurt cried for the first time. It was the day after Rachel left, and both boys were hanging in Kurt's room, Blaine sprawled across the couch as he drew patterns into Kurt's shoulders, Kurt sitting on the floor as he carefully cut and pasted photos of New Directions into a large, powder-blue scrapbook.

Kurt's iPod was blasting music again, this time set to a shuffle of all of Kurt's favorite songs. Suddenly, _Somewhere Only We Know_ ended, and the first notes _Mr. Cellophane_ began to ring out.

Kurt burst into tears.

"Whoa, hey, hey," Blaine panicked, immediately sliding off the couch and pulling Kurt into his arms once more. "Hey, it's okay, what's wrong?"

"S-sorry," Kurt half-laughed, half-sobbed. "It's just—this was my audition song for New Direction, way back in sophomore year. It's just hard to hear it now and know that I'm not—you know?"

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine murmured, tightening his arms around Kurt. The taller boy leaned his head back against Blaine's chest and just let the tears fall.

"You deserved it, you know," Blaine whispered after a few minutes of just holding Kurt. "I know you probably don't feel like you did, but you deserved it. That was the second most amazing and Kurt-like performance I've ever seen."

Kurt laughed, and the sound was bitter, like melting snow in the springtime. "And what was the first?"

"When you sang Blackbird for the Warblers," Blaine said, resting his chin on top of Kurt's shoulder. "It might not have been the most fitting song, since you were singing about blackbirds when Pavarotti was most definitely yellow, but it was still my favorite."

Kurt giggled breathlessly and twisted around to kiss Blaine, lingering only for a moment before pulling back and snickering at Blaine's exaggerated pout. "Thank you—I'm not sure for what, exactly, but thank you."

* * *

"I got a job at Between the Sheets," Kurt said breathlessly one morning. School had been over for just about a week now, and Blaine had been relaxing in his bedroom when Kurt had bounded in.

"I start next week. Part-time sales associate. I figured that between this and working at the garage, I could make some decent money over the summer. Plus, we'd get 50% off sheet music."

"I know, and that's great, but… why are you suddenly getting a job?" Blaine asked, gesturing for Kurt to sit on the bed next to him. Kurt plopped down and flopped backward, sprawling across Blaine's bed in a most undignified way. He was dressed down—or at least, as much as it was possible for Kurt Hummel to dress down. Kurt was wearing jeans, still skinny, though not any special wash or distressed , and a plain t-shirt, only not really because it was clearly designer and covered in various mustaches.

"I know it's not like getting a job as an assistant stage manager or fashion intern, but I still get to look at music on a daily basis, right? And as much as I love staying in your room all day," Kurt began, jerking away from Blaine as the shorter boy tickled Kurt's stomach, "I don't want to become some sort of cave-monster. My skin does _not_ need to be any paler."

"I like your pale skin," Blaine nuzzled his nose against Kurt's neck as if to prove his point. "And I really don't mind staying in my room all day, especially if I'm with you."

Kurt laughed—and Blaine was relieved to see that it was a proper laugh, long and happy—and pushed Blaine away, propping himself up on his elbows and straining his neck to place a small kiss on the tip of Blaine's nose. "I'd stay with you all day for every day of summer, love, but I'm afraid eventually we'd need money for sustenance. And bathroom breaks. And wardrobe changes."

"Don't forget sheet music," Blaine added mock-seriously. "I don't think I could survive for more than a few days if I didn't have a steady supply of Broadway sheet music. And Michael Jackson. And Katy Perry."

"Blaine Everett Anderson," Kurt scolded, swatting Blaine on the shoulder. "I will break you of your strange Katy Perry obsession if it's the last thing I do."

"God, I hope not," Blaine pulled a face. "I'd hate for you to make me stop blasting Teenage Dream to be the last thing you do."

"Alright," Kurt conceded, allowing Blaine to push him back into the bedspread and clamber on top of him. He struggled to stay coherent as Blaine's lips met his jugular, his hands reflexively pulling Blaine closer. "I suppose I can let you keep Teenage Dream. For sentimental reasons."

* * *

"Honey, I'm ho-ome!" Blaine called, sprinting up the stairs to Kurt's room and hastily waving at Burt who grinned up at him from the sofa.

"Last I checked, Blaine, you still lived a good half-hour away," Kurt rolled his eyes as he sauntered out of the bathroom, tugging on the hem of a forest green button-up. "What do you think? Do I look like an evergreen?"

"You look fantastic," Blaine said, not caring that his voice cracked on the last syllable. "You always do."

"That's a lie," Kurt pointed out. "Two years ago I wore a trucker cap and overalls. _Overalls,_ Blaine. I haven't worn overalls since I was four and had tasteful, plaid, Burberry ones."

"I'm sure you looked amazing even in overalls, baby," Blaine said, sweeping Kurt into a tight hug. "How was your first full week of work?"

"Boring, monotonous, tedious, you name it," Kurt sighed into Blaine's hair. The shorter boy had gained a little bit of confidence after prom and had let it loose, although not before taming it with just the smallest amount of gel. "I think the most interesting part of the week was when this first-grader walked in and told me he was looking a song that would take away his newborn sister's voice, like in The Little Mermaid."

"That's one of my favorite movies."

"I'm not surprised… you look like Prince Eric."

"I'd say the same, but you don't really look like anybody in that movie. I think you look kind of like the guy who kissed Sleeping Beauty," Blaine said critically, tilting his head to the side and squinting at Kurt.

Kurt chuckled. "Does that make you Aurora?"

"Only if you'll be my Ariel."

Kurt laughed again and kissed Blaine hard, both of them stumbling a little before they clung to each other. For a while they were just content to stand there and sway in place.

Kurt broke the kiss for a moment and sighed. "That, Blaine Warbler, was possibly the cheesiest conversation I've ever had in my life. I'm surprised I'm not dripping melted cheddar. Not that you'd be complaining, of course. You love cheddar. Oh, wow, I'm rambling, aren't I? And about _cheese_, of all things—"

"Gosh, your lips look delicious," Blaine interrupted, smiling coquettishly before tugging Kurt's face back to his.

* * *

"I've been thinking," Blaine said suddenly, jolting Kurt out of thinking about his latest shopping trip. "Maybe you could go to OSU this fall, and then transfer to somewhere in New York later." Blaine paused there, and looked at Kurt, holding his breath.

They had danced around the subject of Kurt's education for a good three weeks now, and although Blaine was sure Kurt had some sort of plans—because, really, when didn't Kurt have plans—he just needed to make sure they were on the same page.

"Is this your last-ditch attempt to make sure I never leave Lima?" Kurt said, his tone soft and joking.

"Partially," Blaine admitted, rubbing the back of his head before cursing himself for making his hair even more frizzy. "And partially because I know OSU offers this outreach internship program with designers in this area, like Vernon Robinson and other people—"

"Blaine," Kurt cut him off, looking slightly shocked. "Did you seriously do all this research just so I could become a fashion intern next year?"

Blaine sighed and hung his head, silently berating himself. "I know it's a stupid idea, but I know you'd be miserable if you weren't either on Broadway or in Vogue, and I figured that since Broadway has to wait a while, you could maybe start off here, just for this year, and then next year I'd graduate and we could both move to New York together and I could sing, and you could design, or sing, or act, or do whatever you love, and then maybe we—" And here Blaine cut himself off, because he really couldn't go any farther without gasping for air.

Kurt was still stunned. "Blaine, I can't believe that you put all this thought into me. Into us. That is possibly the—no, that is _the_ most amazing, caring, sweetest thing anybody has ever done for me. Ever."

Blaine looked up sharply, a glimmer of hope etched across his face. "So, you don't think I'm a complete idiot?"

"Only if I'm a bigger one," Kurt reassured him, coming over to sit by where Blaine was perched on Kurt's bed. "I would love to do all that and then move to New York with you."

"Good, because as soon as I graduate, we are moving away from Ohio and going to New York, because I fully intend on living in a shabby little apartment with you and getting married in the Gershwin theater and ending up in a nursing home with you by my side."

And then Blaine realized what he just said, and blushed so hard that Kurt was almost sure he'd explode.

"Blaine Anderson-Warbler, did you just pre-propose to me?"

Blaine swallowed through his suddenly-dry throat and nodded, unable to form coherent words.

Kurt smiled beatifically. "Good, because I was just about to pre-accept. But I'll let you know, I'm only marrying a man who has an exceptional taste in fashion. If you insist on ever wearing red-piped blazers and slathering gel in your hair again, I'm just not sure how this will work out."

* * *

"I'm going to major in Music Composition." Blaine stated, gripping Kurt's hands tightly. The two boys were sitting in the most inconspicuous corner of Lima Memorial Park, snuggling together as much as was socially acceptable on the slightly grimy bench.

"Blaine, that's wonderful!" Kurt enthused, squeezing Blaine's hands so tightly the circulation was cut off. He loosened his grip and shot Blaine an apologetic look. "But I though you wanted to major in performance?"

"I figured that even though I really do 'love the mic' as you always say," Blaine started, trying to contain his bubbling happiness because _yes yes yes Kurt approved of his decision! _"I think I love the blank staff more."

"Well, the world should consider itself lucky," Kurt said matter-of-factly. "I've listened to your original songs before, and I'm pretty sure that even Lady Gaga would be jealous."

Blaine didn't even know when he started crying.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked urgently, bending down a little and searching Blaine's watery gaze for any indication of his usually-stoic boyfriend's rapid mood swing.

"Nothing," Blaine laughed through his tears, leaning in for a kiss, not even caring that someone might see them. "I just really love you."

* * *

Kurt left for OSU a week before Blaine started his senior year at McKinley.

_"I hate being so far away from you,"_ Kurt whined into his cellphone. Blaine laughed softly, although he felt exactly the same way.

"I hate being far from you too, baby, but you're only two hours away. That's how far Dalton is from McKinley. We can do this," Blaine said, wishing he had more confidence in his own words.

_"Yeah, well, even when you were at Dalton my junior year sucked. At least I can come back for the weekends,"_ Kurt said, repeating the phrase that had been his mantra for the last three days. _"Why did we need to have a five day long orientation anyway? This is so stupid!"_

"Well, while you convince the deans over at OSU of their stupidity, I'll be stuck here, in Lima, waiting for you. Tina and Brittany say hi, by the way."

_"Tell them hi from me. I wish I could see you right now." _

"I'll see you this weekend. Now go to sleep, you don't want to be groggy in all your classes tomorrow."

Kurt giggled. _"I'd love to go to class like that. Show my ancient Ethics professor exactly what I think about his boring humanities lectures."_

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Goodnight. I love you."

_"I love you more."_

"Impossible."

* * *

Blaine honestly didn't expect Kurt to come home for his Senior Prom, because it was the Friday during Kurt's end-of-semester finals. He had gotten dressed in a nice tux and baby blue tie anyway, and was preparing to head out and meet his friends—Tina, Artie, Rory, Sugar and the new junior Stella were going as a group this year, and they had invited him along.

So when the doorbell rang at the Anderson residence, he was most definitely not expecting Kurt to be standing there, wearing a shimmery black tux and a bow tie that was the exact same shade of baby blue as his own tie. (Dimly, in the back of his mind he realized that Tina or somebody must have called Kurt and told him how to color-coordinate.)

Kurt grinned at him before holding out two boutonnieres, both of them white and dewy and curling.

"I know that the novelty has probably worn off, this being your third prom and all, but hopefully you're not too tired of it to save a dance for me?" Kurt asked, his smile coy as Blaine stood in the doorway, his mouth opening and shutting.

"I-what-but you-how?"

"I skipped my last review class," Kurt explained gently, stepping forward and gently pushing the flowers into Blaine's buttonhole. "And I'm going to have to leave at four in the morning to get back in time for my Saturday cultures final, but I figured that everybody deserves a fantastic senior prom. Mine was."

Blaine didn't care when his boutonniere slipped out and fell to the floor as he drew Kurt in for a hungry kiss, trying to say everything he couldn't in that one desperate contact.

"Whoa, tiger," Kurt laughed, pulling away after a good five minutes. "The limo driver's going to think we're getting it on in your doorway. I have standards, you know."

"I love you," Blaine said, shaking his head in wonder.

* * *

Blaine's graduation was as loud and teary as the Royal Wedding. Nearly all of the old New Directions—minus Finn, understandably—had come back and had performed a rousing rendition of Eye of the Tiger, even though the song had no real connection with the day.

"I can't believe the robes are still red and tacky," Kurt had groaned when Blaine had stepped out of his closet and twirled around. "I thought my strongly-worded letter to the superintendant would have changed something."

Of course, Kurt really had no problems with the outfits after Blaine had stepped forward and dragged Kurt backwards into his closet, stating that "if he didn't like Blaine robes, then maybe Kurt should just take them off him."

Kurt was the first person in the audience to stand up and _scream_ when Blaine's name was announced over the speakers, and the first person to start crying when Blaine received his diploma from the recently-wedded Mrs. Schuester.

"I got into Juilliard," Blaine told him later, vying to be heard over the roar of the auditorium as the graduated seniors struggled to find their families. "Majoring in Music Composition. I would have told you earlier, but I wanted to tell you in person."

"I am so proud of you," Kurt sobbed, only bawling harder when Blaine drew out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Kurt, motioning to wipe under his eyes the same way he had during Kurt's graduation. "I am so proud of my brave, bushy-haired, _beautiful_ boyfriend." Kurt laughed and swiped at his eyes, finally managing to stop crying and kiss Blaine.

"Good," Blaine breathed into Kurt's ear as he brought them into a crushing embrace. "I want you to be."

Kurt's eyes widened in recognition and then he burst into tears again, only quieting when Blaine sealed their mouths together.

* * *

It was only a few days after Blaine's graduation, when Kurt was home for the summer, that Kurt announced to Blaine and his family over a Friday evening dinner that he was transferring to Tisch to pursue a major in Musical Theatre Writing and a minor in Stage and Film design (helpfully augmented by his internship at several smaller companies over his year at OSU).

It was only a moment later, however, that Blaine practically attacked Kurt in his enthusiasm to tell him that yes, Kurt Hummel was the most extraordinary being that ever lived.

* * *

A month later, when Kurt and Blaine stepped into their cramped little apartment in New York City with three stuffed suitcases behind them and their hands joined tightly, they didn't even question it when the first word out of both their mouths was spoken in unison.

_"Finally."_

* * *

**Coincidentally, "finally" was also the first word out of my mouth when I finished this. Over 4,000 words and 9 pages on Microsoft Word. Yeah, it's not the biggest thing I've ever written, but I'm still so full of emotions from "Goodbye" that this was just-guh. I hope this somehow becomes canon.**

**I'm thinking about writing a multi-chapter sequel about their lives in college. Any thoughts?**


End file.
